


Benevolence

by melitta4ever



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape-Not between the characters, Sexual Harassment, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: Cardassian prisons are not for the weak, everybody knows that. Julian learns how true that statement is when their last mission goes to hell and he ends up in one. With Garak and Gul Dukat. With only Garak and Gul Dukat.They won't be here long, Julian knows this. They won't. Starfleet will come through. Sisko won't leave a man behind. Hell, Kira would probably use this as an excuse to bomb every Cardassian prison in the quadrant... He just doesn't know if he can stay alive or sane until then.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Dukat, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak (one sided)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sets around an unspecified time in season 3, definitely before episode 4x4.
> 
> Other than the obvious fangirl thirst for their beautiful bodies, I think I didn't change the characters too much (for the early seasons anyways). Julian is still too young, too trusting and too oblivious. Garak is good. Maybe. Maybe not. He definitely is pragmatic. And Gul Dukat is an asshole, with some redeeming characteristics that are actually helpful in a barbarian world setting and, consequently, in a Cardassian prison. 
> 
> There are brutal, very brutal and bloody, descriptions of rape in this story. It's not happening to our heroes, but it's not exactly in the background either. Consider yourself warned.
> 
> Tags/warnings: porn with some plot, Julian/Dukat, Julian/Garak (one-sided), rape (not between the characters), sexual harassment (it's a prison), dubious consent (because it's Dukat), violence and gore.
> 
> Special thanks to BrokenBlade who went over this self-indulging story and made sure it's something legible. The remaining mistakes are all mine.

The worst thing about mining Ladarium ore was the air quality, Julian decided. The workload, which obviously was planned for the stamina of a Cardassian, was excruciating for a human. Yes. Food was too little to fulfill and too revolting to stomach it. True. Beds were barely softer than the rocks they were laid on, but filthier. No doubt. The relentless banging and clunking of metal over rocks was headache inducingly loud. Check. Still, the foul air that burned his lungs with every single inhale was the worst. He could almost feel each breath leaving a thin layer of muck behind, gradually covering his alveoli, herding him toward a slow, horrible death. It was not just the fumes from the mining, mind you, but when the fumes mixed with the collective odor of the barely-showered and overly-worked population… Always humid, always heavy, always filthy... It was acrid and disgusting. 

Julian didn't know who he should thank for being thrown in here. One moment, he had been listening to the unending bickering between Garak and Gul Dukat in the roundabout on their way back from the Talhel system. Next, he was shoved into this Cardassian prison without a reason, accusation or trial. 

He really hoped that Doctor Wang and Nurse Mendel had ended up in a better place because the prisoners here —all Cardassian, all hulks— couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Constant leering, handling, posturing, catcalls, whistles… wherever Julian turned there was harassment in its crudest form. Even under the guards' scrutiny, they kept finding every little opportunity to grab the token Human's ass, pinch his neck, slap his back… For the first few times when Julian tried to stop the onslaught, appalled in the face of such vile treatment, he learned how strong Cardassians were with their thick scales and heavy fists.

By the time the evening meal signal went off, Julian supported enough bruises under his uniform to prove his irresistible appeal to Cardies. His flesh ached under each bruise; maybe worse than his burning lungs. He could feel each bony finger, each sharp fingernail and each fist that had left their mark on his body. The pain wasn't debilitating maybe, but it was enough to make him hyper aware of his surroundings. Single human in this barely lit maze, filled with hungry, savage, brute Cardassians. Cardassians who seemed to sense his presence without even looking. As if there was a beacon inside Julian, broadcasting that there was a new, exotic convict ready to be groped. And they answered with their grabby paws, insolent desires and humiliating hunger...

Oh! Hunger.

His stomach groaned with the scent of the porridge wafting from the food distribution table. The awful taste of the lunch all but forgotten, he found himself salivating. But the line was crowded with Cardies and he couldn't stand the idea of being surrounded by them. The thought was enough to curb his hunger with an uncontrollable shiver. 

He decided to get away from the crowd, walking as silently as possible toward the part of the cave used as sleeping quarters. He had to meander between the scattered beds on the ground, haphazardly spread along the walls, barely any thicker than those ancient carpets his mom loved so much. Not nearly as colorful as Terran rugs obviously. Like everything else here, the beds were an ugly shade of gray, smeared with the Ladarium black; beds, ground, walls, even the prisoners... And every time a blackened Cardi passed by, Julian couldn't help but flinch, wishing to turn into the same color, camouflaged in the walls, to permeate them. 

He didn't know what he was looking for until he found Gul Dukat. He was sitting in a wide corner nook where the tunnel bent rather sharply, creating an illusion of privacy in this open to all, communal setting. He looked calm and relaxed, Julian reflected with a stinging jealousy. As if he wasn't in a prison, but merely took a stop on his way home, a stop with horrible accommodations, that was. His hair looked just as slick as in the runabout as if he hadn't been working in the dust and grime all day. He sat straight, shoulders back, legs wide open; like he owned this fucking place. 

Julian didn't know what Dukat must have done to take such valuable, prime real-estate as his. He didn't know what kind of welcome he would receive either. Still, he shuffled through that few meters distance over to the guy without a conscious choice. He sat down cautiously on the thin mattress. 

They had arrived together in this hell hole less than 5 hours ago, but it felt longer. Much longer. Gul Dukat might as well be a different person by now. Julian sure felt like one. He had never been the strongest person in any setting, but he had always known his own strengths. His wit had saved him from many tight spots for one. He was quick to respond to physical or mental cues. He could analyze the shit out of any problem. He was the voice of calm and reason when bombs went off and soldiers cried for mommy. Now though… Stripped from his badge that always offered him more protection than any phaser ever could, he felt naked. Now, for the life of him, he couldn't come up with a solution. 

Dukat didn't acknowledge Julian one way or another. He continued eating whatever was in his bowl. It was a fair statement that Gul Dukat had never looked friendly, ever, but today, after being exposed to the worst of the worst Cardassia could offer, the guy looked even more scary than before. Still, he was the only one Julian had any previous rapport with in this place. Garak had made sure of it when he had asked Julian to stay away as soon as they stepped into the cave. At first, Julian thought that betrayal hurt the worst. Now, he wasn't so sure. His lungs definitely hurt more, he decided, trying to suppress yet another cough that would try to tear his larynx to get rid of the particulate build up.

Dukat glanced sideways, taking in the bruises covering Julian's face no doubt. Then, with a totally unexpected gesture, he gave whatever was left in his bowl to Julian.

"Thank you!" Julian stammered before inhaling the food. When he'd finished, he found Dukat studying him.

"You should avoid confrontation," Dukat suggested unhelpfully. How easy to say for a Gul donned in his fucking armor, as strong and brutal as the worst of them here. 

"And why didn't I think of that?" Julian sneered. He had had enough of Cardassians and their superiority and brutality and grabby fucking— He stopped himself taking in a deep breath, not wanting to lose the little peace he had found here. A violent coughing fit was what he got for that lung full of Ladarium laced air. "I'm sorry," he managed to croak afterwards. And he was, he truly, deeply was sorry.

Dukat handed him a small mug, similar to what Julian had seen in the hands of the other prisoners. Julian brought it to his mouth. A thick, wet, sulphurous smell hit him.

"'the hell is this?" he gagged. It smelled atrocious.

"Take a sip," ordered Dukat, "It'll help with the cough."

Julian eyed the greenish brown liquid under the dim light, then looked back at Dukat.

"Drink!" Raised brow ridges told Julian that obedience was expected.

The concoction tasted worse than it smelled, covering Julian's mouth, esophagus and nasal passage with its gag inducing flavor.

"Now..." Dukat took back the mug and closed its lid. "Do you need help with these—" Julian couldn't help the flinch when Dukat's hand came over one of the tender bruises. Dukat raised his hands in that universal gesture of no-harm, "I'm not gonna hurt you, Doctor."

How Julian wished to believe that.

"I tried. Really." His chin dropped to his chest, cheeks burning. He did try. After the initial bewilderment, he had kept quiet, held his head down and stayed away from the crowds. He did his best not to aggravate the obviously feral prisoners. "But it's… I don't know… they kept coming… and I..." He opened his eyes and looked at Dukat, not knowing what to expect. They had never been friends, barely cordial during the mission. "It's… scary." 

"Only a fool wouldn't be scared in your position," shrugged Dukat and pulled a metal piece out from under his pants; a piece ripped from his armor, Julian guessed. Half of it was wrapped by strips of leather. "These men've been here for quite some time." A cruel half smile grew on his face, "Cardassian biology tends to go a little wild without occasional…" he licked his lips, "copulation." He gave a quick, dismissive wave, "True for commoners of course." Of course! God forbid a Gul like Dukat suffered the limits of his own biology. "That's what keeps our troops so effective at wars."

"And by effective, you, of course, mean ruthless?" Julian blurted, before he could put a lid on the mockery. "Sorry." 

"I take pride in our effectiveness, Doctor." Dukat answered while pulling the leather tighter and tighter around the metal piece. "Nothing to be sorry for." Of course he was proud of the brutal casualties of Cardassian wars. " _Ghroketh_ is only one tool among the many."

Julian had heard about the _Ghroketh_ , the craze. Or rutt, as Bajorans spitefully called it. Technically similar to _Pon Farr_ , just not as deadly or seldom. If you asked Major Kira it was just a stupid excuse because Cardassians weren't any better than wild mongrels who would go wild with a scent of a bitch. Julian also heard that _Ghroketh_ was the reason why it was usually overlooked when Guls took a mistress or two during their time away from home. Or why prostitution was so common under any Cardassian occupation. Or for such xenophobic people, they strangely didn't have any reservations whatsoever when it came to sex with other species. Still though, knowing something through his medical journals with their sterile anthropological point of view was nowhere near as clear as the frenzied grunts he heard each time he was within arm's distance of another prisoner here. 

"I thought a female was necessary, you know, to avert _Ghroketh_."

"Oh, dear Doctor! Still the academic, I see," Dukat laughed, as usual a condescending and cold laugh. "Not necessarily. But homosexuality is… is not common in Cardassia."

"I don't think the **Cardassians** grabbing me were bothered by the fact that I was a male." 

"You misunderstood me, Doctor. We don't care about the gender of the person whom we love." He shook his head, lips curling with contempt, "We're not bigots like Bajorans. However, Cardassians can't have anal sex. Not without an operation anyway."

That, Julian didn't know. And apparently, Dukat could read the ignorance from his face. 

"It's the scales, you see," He let go of the metal piece he was working on and ran his fingers down over the ridges on his neck. "They go all the way… down." He smiled, this time predatory, "You can go in," he made a loose fist by bringing his fingertips together then pushed his index finger from the other hand into the hole surrounded by sharp nails. "But you can't pull it back in one piece." When he tried pulling his finger out, his nails skewered it to a stop.

Julian couldn't help the cold sweat dripping down his neck looking at the finger stuck between thick nails. This information was… this was bad. Julian might as well be one of the Dabo girls in this testosterone filled prison.

"Come now, Doctor. You can't tell me you didn't observe the population here. Is it really representative of Cardassia average?" He picked the metal back and continued encasing half of it by leather. He was jerry-rigging a crude shiv, Julian realized.

"I… No. People here are bigger." Julian welcomed the distraction the series of approximations provided. On average he decided, prisoners were at least 10 cm taller and about 30 kg heavier than the typical Cardassian. "I thought it was the conditions…" he didn't finish when Dukat shook his head, all knowing.

"If you are sure that you can overpower someone, you do it, then carve out the scales and then you do your business," he explained with clinical detachment. "The rest of the prisoners do their business as well. And the last person usually does break the poor guy's neck to end his suffering." There wasn't an ounce of emotion in his voice. Cardassian philosophy was that being weak was your fault, and your fault only. "If he doesn't die of blood loss that is. Cardassian copulation can be really hard on wounded skin."

Seeing more than his fair share of Cardassian penises today –large and covered with scales that Julian was almost sure would cut through his skin like blades– Julian responded, "I'm sure it is hard on even healthy skin."

That caused Dukat to laugh out loud. Jolly and carefree as if they were discussing Cardassian cuisine and not...not… 

_'Breathe, Julian, breathe_.' 

Dukat lowered his voice and whispered with a naughty giddiness that gave Julian chills. "My dear Doctor, a platoon of Cardassians would kill you," He pointed the half-made shiv toward Julian's nether parts. "No matter how soft or welcoming that ass is." They would, wouldn't they? They would kill him without a second thought. "So, as you can see, the weak have constantly been eliminated in a place like this, leaving only the strong standing."

Julian wasn't a weakling, but he would prefer a quicker death than being fucked to it by hordes of Cardassian prisoners. He could feel their eyes on him even now. Hungry eyes with demanding gazes, trying to penetrate through his clothes, his skin... The prisoners were done with their dinner and looking for some entertainment it seemed. He could see how they kept moving closer, constantly, gradually… like the tide flowing in, slowly effacing the shore.

Julian turned to Dukat, searching his eyes. There was a glint of a promise there. A cold promise, matching the ice blue of his eyes.

"Can a Cardassian of your station offer any protection?" Julian asked, daring to hope that he had guessed the promise correctly. "Until the Federation comes to save me that is."

"At that time you will offer me a helping hand as the appreciation of my noble act I assume?" Dukat asked with a smirk.

"That goes without saying."

At that moment a big hand grabbed Julian's arm and pulled so fast that it almost pulled it from his shoulder socket. Julian couldn't help his weak yelp. Luckily Dukat jumped into action before Julian could hear the echoes of that girly scream.

The two Cardassians faced each other for a moment, then Dukat's fist broke the other guy's nose with a sickening crack.

"He's mine!" Dukat hissed, his neck expanding even wider, causing the ridges on its sides to separate slightly, like blunt spikes arranged in a tidy row.

The broken nose guy spat blood on the ground to his side, then lisped through his teeth something Julian couldn't understand exactly, but eerily similar to taking turns.

Dukat pulled Julian, barely any gentler than the previous cave-dassian, back to his corner. He then whispered in Julian's ear, lips brushing the sensitive cartilage with each syllable. "My station, Doctor, means **nothing** here. Neither does anything else outside of the borders of this prison, really. It's only my strength that can protect me and mine here."

That made sense, yes. And Julian was so relieved that he had escaped a very inevitable, very brutal rape that he would have agreed with Dukat on probably anything. 

Except…

No!

"Oh, yes." Dukat grinned, guiding Julian down onto the thin mattress and answering the unworded question on his face, "I can't publicly claim you as mine and then forgo the actual claiming, now, can I?" He leaned over, face almost touching Julian's. "Also, my dear Doctor, perceived strength is much more important in a place like this than actual strength." He continued, grazing his nose over Julian's neck with a deep inhale. "We really don't want to do anything to jeopardize that concept, do we?" He whispered even softer this time, his body blanketing Julian's, "Just imagine how weak I would look if I had to fight a _human_ just to wet my _skhot_."

"We can always pretend, you know," Julian suggested, trying to pull his face away from the unyielding Cardassian.

"I'm afraid I'm not that good of an actor, Doctor," tut-tutted Dukat, his mouth easily following Julian's each move, whispers licking his skin. "And also," he raised his head a little and looked right into Julian's eyes, "I don't really wanna play pretend."

"Not so different from your rapist **commoners** now, are you?" Julian spat out, trying to figure out a way to reach this egoistic bastard.

"Rape?" Dukat questioned in a wounded voice, "That's such an ugly accusation. And to think that someone who can resist a Vulcan mind meld could be defeated by a little extra testosterone is… absurd, really." He lifted himself on one arm, resting his back to the wall. Now that Dukat wasn't covering him, Julian could easily see the corridor leading to their corner, completely exposed to anyone who decided to pass by. "I've never forced anyone to be with me, Doctor. I never need to. You're free to go whenever you want," he grinned. 

Julian wanted to slap that shit-eating grin. He caught a glimpse of someone lurking in the shadows, not too far from them; the broken nose guy. He knew Dukat noticed him too. "So much freedom," he snapped at Dukat, "I could drown in it!"

"He's not the only one watching," Dukat gestured to the guy Julian just saw with a head tilt. When he looked to check though, Julian couldn't be sure it wasn't his eyes playing tricks on him, creating shadowy silhouettes out of nothing but his fear. "I'm sure one of the spectators is your tailor."

"Garak?" He had not only abandoned Julian, now he was watching… watching this? That couldn't be. No way.

Dukat grazed a finger over Julian's skin, contouring his face, taking in the denial contorting his features, no doubt. "Oh, Doctor! You're so naive I almost feel bad exploiting you." He gave a half shrug, "Almost." 

His anger now burning blue inside, Julian snapped his head back. Or rather he tried to, but Dukat held his chin between two strong fingers and forced Julian's head to face him. "As lowly as I think about him, Garak didn't leave you to save himself, my young Doctor. He did it so that **I** would save **you**." Julian tried to free his chin from Dukat's hand, but his grip was like an unyielding vice. "See, Garak is rather good when it comes to conniving, scheming or cunning. But here, the only valid force is the brute force." He squeezed Julian's chin to a point of excruciating pain to prove his twisted point, then released. "And when it comes to brute force, your friend is barely better than an old tailor; so he plays the matchmaker to save your life."

It was the most outrageous, the most elaborate, the most disgusting lie Julian could think of. Still, he knew that it was pointless to press the issue. Julian might not know Gul Dukat well, but he knew of him well enough to know that the guy did what he wanted, took what he needed and there wasn't anything Julian could do to convince him otherwise under these conditions.

"Bastard!" he hissed, trying to fill that single word with all the hatred he could muster. Then, he grabbed Dukat's shoulder and pulled him closer over him. He could compartmentalize later, he decided. Survival came first.

"Don't you worry, Doctor." Dukat's smile widened, "I have excessive experience fucking gentler species." Dukat's long, long tongue flicked along Julian's neck, from his collarbone to his ear. "I won't leave you a bleeding, broken corpse like many of my countrymen here would do." His hand found Julian's pants' opening and unzipped it. "Just don't forget your word to me, when your Starfleet buddies burst into here —how do you say?— guns blazing."

"You expect me to help you after—” Julian couldn't finish his sentence because a wayward incisor bit on his earlobe, squeezing the soft meat between sharp enamels. It hit some nerve in Julian; something he didn't know he possessed. Something that sang a magnificent aria of sensations inside him… He gasped, seemingly forgotten how to breathe.

Dukat stopped his ministrations for a moment. When Julian opened his eyes —when had he closed them?— he saw Dukat studying him with a wide eyed amusement. "I wasn't expecting to find you so... responsive." He licked the exact point he had bitten just to pluck that sensitized cord inside Julian. "Such a delightful treat." 

This time Julian was aware of his eyelids closing. He just didn't have the will to resist such a persuasive call of pleasure. Not now. He needed an escape from this dreadful day. _Close your eyes and suddenly you're at Risa_ , kind of escape. His hips moved instinctually, pressing himself harder and harder to the Cardassian body blanketing him; grinding his surprisingly willing dick to the fortress of muscle and scales that was Dukat's abdomen.

Dukat nuzzled around Julian's neck, behind his ear; the small and surprisingly soft ridges on his nose pressing into Julian's skin, tickling him. "Too bad I can't enjoy you as thoroughly as I'd like to." He pulled Julian's pants down with a flick of his wrist, then he added "This time."

Before Julian could question him, or question what the hell was happening, he found himself manhandled to lie face down. A long, hard and surprisingly slick cock was already forcing his ass.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he whisper-yelled from where he was squeezed under Dukat's body. He already decided that this… this performance was inevitable, but not without any prep. "I can't— I need—"

"Relax…" Dukat ordered with a hiss. Before Julian could suggest where to stick his patronizing 'relax' together with his alien dick, Dukat bit him. Not too far from where the famous Vulcan nerve pinch would work. And to his infinite surprise, Julian felt relaxed. As if he had a big fix of hypospray, his muscles just let go. His head, his shoulders, legs, even his fingers flopped on the not-so-comfy mattress, void of any tension whatsoever. But most importantly at this moment, his internal sphincter became as soft as I'denian spice pudding.

Dukat entered him with a low growl. Thankfully he moved slowly, letting the ridges on his dick enter Julian one by one, gradually widening him to his whole girth. 

"Softer than a Bajoran whore!" groaned Dukat, when he was finally buried in him. "And much warmer."

Julian could sense the both claims from the opposite perspective. Theoretically, he knew Dukat's body temperature wasn't too much different than his own; however the greedy way it absorbed heat, that alien dick might as well be made out of ice. It felt like he was being invaded by a dildo; a hard, rigged and definitely giant but also alive dildo. 

In spite of himself, Julian found the experience tolerable. It had been a while since he'd had sex with a man. Even longer that he had been penetrated. It felt okay. Definitely better than his last one-night stand that he had been too drunk to enjoy. The way Dukat's dick was moving, pressing… the way those ridges were popping into his entrance one by one… the way Dukat's body was covering him, hiding from the rest of the world… It was almost nice. 

Suddenly, Dukat stopped. 

" _Figures_!" Julian couldn't help the silent commentary with a roll of his eyes. A universal fact apparently: the more a man boasted, the worse he was in bed. But, Dukat wasn't done either. Was he? Julian didn't know enough about Cardassian sexual practices to recognize an ejaculation maybe, but he thought he could recognize his partner's orgasm; regardless of the species. 

The grunts he heard then had nothing to do with orgasm. When he turned he found Dukat facing the broken nose dude who a moment later collapsed down to the ground. Dukat pulled out his shiv from the guy's abdomen. Then pulled out another shiv, a bigger and scarier one, from where it stuck on the armpit of his own armor. 

"If you want a _kh'tar_ , here's one." He announced with a booming voice, kicking the groaning guy on the ground. He stood tall watching over his wounded foe; chest out, legs wide just like in the videos from his days of Prefect. He didn't look at the guy though. He looked at the depths of the tunnel. When Julian tracked his gaze, he saw shadows slowly taking corporeal form one by one, crowding around the guy on the ground. Julian found himself automatically moving toward the wounded guy too, but Dukat's grip on his shoulder stopped him.

"Are you _leskhotte_ serious?!" he snapped, pulling Julian back.

"I'm a doctor," said Julian. It was answer enough.

"Then take care of **me** , Doctor." He jutted out his right arm, bleeding from a long, shallow wound. "Leave the dead guy alone." 

"He's not dead," Julian exclaimed, turning toward the guy to show the very much alive body. But it was already swarmed by prisoners, like sharks on a bleeding sea lion.

"Not dead **yet** ," Dukat corrected. "It's just a matter of time." He pulled Julian again, this time more gently. "And if he isn't dead by the time they are done with him, I promise I'll let you give him the mercy strike."

Julian's feet moved by Dukat's lead, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the carnage. The guy on the ground was fighting like a rabid dog; lashing out tooth and nail, biting, kicking, gouging… He even managed to throw one guy to the wall. But there were simply so many of them; he just couldn't break loose. Suddenly, there was a scream that hurt Julian's ears with its sharpness, followed by a gurgling howl. Then someone moved on top of him—

"Doctor!" Dukat held his chin, this time his hands much gentler and soft, and slowly turned his head toward him. "If it helps, remember! That's what he was going to do to you."

"It doesn't." His stomach churned hearing the ululating cry. Even if he was no longer watching, he couldn't help but hear the disgusting squelching sounds, the wounded guy's howls and the groans of his rapists. "Is it… Is it always like this? In Cardassia?" Julian stuttered; the sheer violence and the depravity of the act was incomprehensible.

"Of course not," Dukat denied, steering Julian with small, slow steps. "This is a prison, Doctor and everyone knows they'll be here until they're dead. It turns people… Feral. " Life sentence. In a place like this. Julian was going to throw up. "Here." Dukat pushed a piece of fabric to his hands,"Keeping busy should help."

It did help. Julian focused on wrapping the long cut on Dukat's arm. He watched the off-white fabric covering the gray, softly scaled skin. Each layer started white, then gradually the red bled through; blossoming tiny little rosebuds that slowly spread over the whole bandage. Then Julian wrapped another layer over it, starting the process once again.

"Come." Dukat gently guided him when there was no more gauze left to wrap. "Sleep with me."

And that's what they did. Listening to the gut-retching sounds of the gang rape happening a few meters ahead. Julian closed his eyes, tight enough to see stars inside the eyelids. This time, there was no Risa waiting for him. 

  
  


When Julian opened his eyes, it was morning. He couldn't believe that he had managed to fall asleep. There really was something to say about the bone-deep tiredness and how it cured insomnia. When he peeked, he saw the morbid traces of the previous night's carnage, but no body. Bloody footprints covered the cave's floor, wayward skin and scale pieces adorning in between like a post-modernist mosaic of horror. Dukat poked him out of their too narrow bed and that's how his second day in the prison started. 

If he didn't count the horrific aftertaste of the previous night, Julian's second day was much better than the first. He had a relatively good breakfast, being in the line with Dukat helped with the portion size. And more importantly, no one tried to cop a feel, or tried to intimidate him, or punched him throughout the day. He wasn't sure if it really was due to the protection Dukat had announced last night though. It could easily be because the rowdiest of the bunch had already doused their fire so to speak. Still, he could barely lift his hand to his mouth when the dinner time rolled. He had to forgo using a spoon altogether since his fingers were not functioning properly; painfully swollen knuckles were stuck together in a deformed shape, not bending or opening. Huge blisters covered his skin inside his palms and fingers. Some were already ruptured, red and oozing. They burned fiercely whenever something brushed over them, rendering his hands completely useless. Using a pickaxe for mining was probably the most inefficient system there could be, he decided. Using Julian's surgeon hands for the aforementioned axe was another layer of stupid on top of that.

"No one here's gonna think less of me if you start eating like a vole, Doctor," Dukat rubbed Julian's screaming triceps. "Just eat."

Julian had to bite his tongue to stop a moan; Dukat's fingers felt heavenly on his sore muscles. "I'm not used to this… this kind of work," he managed to respond instead. 

He gorged himself, then, slurping the slimy protein/vitamin/carb mix directly from the bowl without tasting or chewing. 

"Come, Doctor Bashir," Dukat patted the hard mattress afterwards, "Join me in our love nest." Then, he let out a boisterous laughter, immensely pleased with his joke.

Julian didn't have any strength in him to oppose. He would lay down and let Dukat do whatever he wanted to do. He might even sleep through the thing, he mused, he was that tired. 

Apparently, Dukat was too. Other than rubbing Julian's screaming shoulders, his benefactor didn't do much else.

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fact that was not discussed in the TV series due to the ick factor: Vulcan nerve pinch may cause incontinence. Do not try at home.


	2. Chapter 2

When Julian woke up on their fifteenth day in the prison, he was finally feeling like himself again. His constantly aching muscles were either getting stronger with the non stop exercise or they got used to the increased amount of lactic acid flooding them and gave up complaining. His bruises were healed as well, leaving him not happy maybe, but hopeful. He kept close to Dukat whenever he wasn't working and that was enough to save him from brutal hands and wandering touches - mostly. There hadn't been a confrontation like the first night either. Dukat had to hiss and growl a few times, but other than a little muscle flexing/scale rattling it was almost peaceful. 

Even Garak had shown his face once. What a surprise it had been, how pleasant. He didn't talk but managed to pass Julian a small shiv; his scaled hand squeezing Julian's for a fleeting moment. However confusing the guy was, Julian felt breathing a tad easier after that. And the soothing feeling of the cold metal next to his skin was simply liberating. He didn't feel as naked anymore.

During the day, the work filled his whole being with its excruciating repetition, not leaving him any chance to think or contemplate. Mining was a dangerous industry, requiring every bit of concentration he possessed to keep his fingers and toes intact. At the end of each shift however, he kept finding himself waiting for the phaser sounds while enjoying (right, enjoying!) his dinner and listening to the neverending monologues of Dukat. The guy was too in love with his own voice, even for a Cardassian.

Today's topic was from Cardassian history —a myth if you asked Julian: How Cardassian romance progressed over time and how it helped build the current society, meaning their militaristic regime. Julian had no idea how that logic worked. Their romance folklore was even more exaggerated than the tales of Kahless and Lady Lukara. The same old  _ one mate for life _ fables that Julian was sure were universal in the whole galaxy, except maybe for the Ferengi. Julian preferred to daydream about Federation issued phasers, donned by Starfleet heroes... He knew they must be looking for him. Captain Sisko wasn't the kind of person who left a man behind. Jadzia and Chief would figure something out; they would discover where he'd ended up. They would find him. 

Of course, doubt always found its way into his subconscious mind, filling him with dreadful what-ifs however much he wanted to avoid them. The galaxy  **was** a big place and a Cardassian penal colony on a barely class M moon of a God forsaken gas giant might not be the first place to search for him, or the second or the hundredth. Julian might as well turn into a decomposing corpse by the time they figured out where he had ended up.

Probably these dark thoughts were the reason why he didn't realize how the atmosphere in the cave had changed. Dukat was silent, had been silent for some time. A few stolen glances around and only then Julian realized how everyone held themselves differently. Nothing obvious or even visible really. Still, one look around and something inside him, something he inherited from his prehistoric ancestors, something Julian thought must have been lost a few dozen generations ago, told him that there was danger, with capital D. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. He could almost sense adrenaline being pumped into his bloodstream with every heartbeat. His hand sought the comfort of the shiv's hilt, grabbing it tight. He was ready for it.

_ It,  _ apparently, was five Cardies attacking them. Or more precisely, attacking Dukat. Dukat pulled his knife —much bigger than Julian's, with a serrated edge to inflict maximum damage— and started using it with practised ease. Julian couldn't watch the fight safely from afar however. Someone jerked him away, and the way the scaled fingers tightened around his wrist told him exactly what the guy was planning. He slashed the shiv against the arm first. The blunt metal slid over the scales without any harm. Then, he remembered Dukat's wayward advice from a few nights ago.  _ You don't cut it like preparing vegetables for a stew. Glide the tip over the scales until you hit a gap, then thrust it in. _ Dukat told him that for cutting a Cardassian's neck —he had apparently had the pleasure of doing that at least a dozen times while thwarting assassination or coup attempts. It worked just as well on Julian's attacker's arm. Blood, a little colder and a lot more stickier than a human's, but still red blood, washed over his hand and his attacker ran away with a yelp.

Dukat was a lot faster and better at hand-to-hand combat than Julian, obviously, as evidenced by the two dead Cardies already lying at his feet. Still, he was fighting against three...no,  _ four _ others now. Julian was a doctor who took the Hippocratic oath very seriously, yes, but he also knew that Dukat was the only thing standing between him and a gruesome death at this moment. So, he plunged his shiv into the person closest to him then jerked it out —right where the Achilles' tendon was supposed to be. The guy fell with a shrill howl, his nails almost cutting through Julian's face going down. And even though he couldn't step on one foot any longer, he still tried to get up, continue to fight. Julian had to kick him in the face too just to stop him.

Suddenly, almost all of the spectators crowded in. Not to get Julian, thankfully, but to get the guy he had crippled. Even the two Cardies still fighting with Dukat left and joined the mob scurrying the screaming guy away. Julian couldn't care less where they were going though. He didn't care what they were going to do to that bastard either. Dukat was on the ground, entangled with another prisoner in a bloody, vicious hug.

Julian wanted to help, but the two Cardassians were moving too fast for him to engage. So, he waited. Chest heaving, hand clutching his shiv, he watched to find out who would rise victorious. When they stopped, Dukat was underneath the other Cardie and for a split second of panic Julian couldn't tell if he was dead or alive. Then, his benefactor pushed the guy off of himself and got up, spitting out a big lump of flesh while doing so. Blood was still gushing out of the other guy's neck where Dukat had torn a chunk off, in tandem with his slowing heartbeat.

"Are you okay?" Julian found himself unable to move; receding adrenaline was probably causing a shock to his system. Or was it due to seeing all that blood dripping from Dukat's face, hands, hair…everywhere. He was soaked in blood. His matte gray skin was covered with an oily, shining coat of red, turning the white of his eyes into two glowing orbs underneath it. There were pieces of flesh, skin and scales stuck under his fingernails, on his armor, even on his face. He looked like he had carved his way out of a monster's belly. 

"Dukat!" Julian couldn't control the wavering of his voice, "Are you okay?" he repeated.

Dukat turned his head, and gave Julian a creepy smile before licking his bloody lips, tasting his victory. He looked different under so much red. Even his eyes were different. No longer the smooth ice blue, but hints of red shining deep inside. The ridges on the side of his neck were raised as well. Julian was sure he might hear them rattle if it wasn't as loud as a Klingon bar here. Saliva mixed with blood was dripping from the side of his mouth. It gave him the semblance of a dangerous Terran lizard; he looked much more deadlier than Komodo Dragon though. Like an embodiment of one of the monsters from old spooky tales which had supernatural powers that could hurt and maim mere humans. Like the monsters visiting nightmares and causing them as well.

"Whatever you do, Doctor," Dukat growled, instead of an answer, "Don't run."

Run? Why would he run? Julian shook himself out of his shock and stepped closer. It was almost an instinct to check him for life threatening wounds. 

"Really Doctor? You think this is my blood. You wound me." He gave another eerie smile that showed red covered teeth. His speech wasn't as smooth as usual, every word ending with a hiss that told Julian's amygdala that he was facing a predator. "Now. I think I more than earned my way to that plump ass of yours." He grabbed Julian's butt and pulled him into his arms. His face buried into Julian's neck, he licked and nibbled, covering Julian with the blood of his enemies, branding him as his. 

Julian could feel the tremors of Dukat's heaving chest and shaking hands on his skin. Was it adrenaline? Was it  _ Craze _ ? Did it matter?

"Okay…" It really was okay Julian realized belatedly. It wasn't like he hadn’t been expecting this for the last fifteen days. Every night he had ended up in Dukat's bed, snuggled against him... Every night, the Cardassian's sharp fingernails found some nerve passing through his neck, applied some kind of alien acupuncture for Julian's exhausted muscles, massaging, groping, owning... And every night, Dukat's not so warm breath danced over his skin, reminding Julian of that first night, keeping him guessing... It was bound to happen.

"You smell so warm," Dukat's nose raked over Julian's neck. "You're so warm."

Then, in a perfect contrast to his slow scenting, he all but threw Julian toward the area subbing as showers. Primitive, water based cleaning that could never completely clear up the gluey scum that gathered on their skin. Still, Julian was infinitely grateful that Dukat was willing to get rid of all that blood first. That much blood would make anyone nauseous, field doctor or not.

Dukat never stopped touching Julian. Through the showers or on the way to their bed, his hands were always on him. And by the time Julian found himself spread under him, Dukat was almost lost in his haze.

"It's been so long since I've suffered from  _ Ghroketh _ ," he managed to say, breathing hard and fast. "You've been constantly chipping away at my will power." He divested Julian of his clothes, ripping most of it. And suddenly, Julian felt that monster Cardassian cock pressing against his ass.

"Aren't you going to bite me?" Then, he quickly amended, "I mean to relax the muscles—"

"I want you responsive." Dukat slid his cock on and around Julian's ass, covering him with his slick. "I want to watch you dance around my  _ skhot _ ."

Then, he pushed. Julian tried to relax himself, tried to push out, tried to be accepting but it wasn't easy. His muscles were no match for Cardassian strength, and it hurt. How it hurt!

"Please…" he whimpered, hands patting and caressing the neck ridges of Dukat, hoping that it would pacify the guy. "Please Skrain! Please! Go slow." He hated how his voice was cracking, but it worked.

"Of course." Dukat pulled back with a shake of his head. He inhaled, deep. Then again and again. Nose flaring with each breath, he squeezed his eyes shut. It was fascinating to watch him taking control of the beast, one breath at a time. He, then, started playing with his fingers instead. Equally strong and hard, but much much smaller. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'll be careful," he promised, grinding his dick against Julian's butt. His fingers were already inside him, prodding and opening.

"You know I wanted you since you helped Kotan Pa'Dar with his lost son. I wanted to  _ skhotte  _ your ass since then."

"Ah," Julian started but had to take a brief stop when a finger poked him right at his prostate, "So this is a hate fuck."

"On the contrary, my dear," he slurred in between kisses along Julian's neck, "It's admiration." Another finger forced its way in. "You proved to be more than a pretty boy with dreamy eyes that day."

How flattering! 

It didn't take long after that for Dukat to turn him face down and enter him biblically. That long, tapered dick was doing something to Julian, something it had no right to do. Or rather, something that Julian had no right to feel from the hands of Gul Dukat! He started with a steady pace, holding Julian as he pleased, moving him as he saw fit. His hands kept moving, patting, squeezing…. Fingers finding the most sensitive spots on Julian's skin, making him ready to scream, plead, beg… Nails pushing, right on the edge of breaking skin…

"It's a wonder your species managed to evolve to rule your world," Dukat said calmly, as if he wasn't fucking Julian out of sense and speech. "Such vulnerable skin." His fingernails raked both sides of Julian's torso, not deep enough to leave welts, but surely leaving something behind. Something that fed the fire burning inside Julian. "So thin and so sensitive…" His hands, then, went lower —fingers with very sharp nails were tapping on and around Julian's very sensitive, very vulnerable balls.

Julian wanted to warn him, ask him to be careful with his family jewels. Unfortunately, he was afraid if he was to start speaking, he might end up saying things that he really shouldn't.

"I wish I had more time to enjoy you, Doctor," Dukat spoke through his teeth. "I wish we could go on the whole night." He pulled Julian's butt up, raising him on his knees. "But I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise." Then, he started his full fledged attack. 

It was an onslaught of sensations, building up not on Julian's genitals, but somewhere deep in his core. The invasive barrage on his ass made him want to wail in delight. Scaled but soft skin hitting him, covering him, pressing him oh so hard.. turned him into goo, ready to melt and pour. Hard, strong fingers that held him pressed into the nerves that short circuited his brain, causing him to thrash like a wounded targ... And when Dukat bit him somewhere special on his shoulder, Julian felt he was going berserk. Like there wasn't anything else in the world. Like his whole being was reduced to some primal, glutenousgluttonous state. Like he had everything he had ever desired at that moment. Between the fast pumping action in his rear and the wet, biting suction on his neck, Julian felt reduced to one, single, naked nerve, suffering signal overload.

When he came, he found it lasting. Not the burst of pleasure that he had always enjoyed, but a continuous flow of bliss that made him see stars. Billions of stars. Passing through them as if he was in warp. As if he was in heaven.

Gradually, he came back from that bliss and found himself without an ounce of strength. His muscles couldn't hold his skeleton anymore and he fell in the hard bed, only his hips were up because Dukat was carrying them.

"Oh, my sweet Julian, you enjoying yourself is a sight to behold," Dukat said. Julian could hear the grin from his voice but he didn't find in himself to be angry at the glaring arrogance of the guy. He, Julian mused, had every right to be cocky at the moment. Then Dukat came, groaning; squirting something cold but not unpleasantly so, into Julian's depths. 

In the deep fog of bliss, Julian had some questions floating around in his mind about his bizarrely good experience. Like what did Dukat do to cause Julian to lose it? How did he know to do that? More precisely, how did he know to do that to Julian. And —only in the privacy of his own oxytocin filled mind— could he do it again? But he didn't ask any of them. Couldn't. Breathing was a hard enough job by itself, and Julian was so damn tired.

Dukat rested his head over Julian's back while his fingers painted invisible patterns on Julian's oversensitive skin, "Oh, I wish I could see Garak's face when he sees you tomorrow," he snickered.

Fucking bastard! What the hell was Julian thinking, enjoying this barbaric boor? He shrugged that bony finger off of his back and sat up.

"Are you fucking serious?" He pulled his pants up to cover himself. "Was this all about some macho rivalry?"

Dukat lay down on his back, leisurely placing an arm under his head, and gave that shit eating grin of his. "You surprise me, Doctor. I've claimed you publicly and then killed those who wanted in on that claim. **This** really is the epitome of machismo."

That… That was true. 

"Oh, come now." Dukat held Julian's hand and pulled him down to the bed. "Righteous anger becomes you, my dear, not gonna lie, but we can continue that later. I want to enjoy your truly fucked scent. With my claim still fresh on you."

Julian didn't want to lay down next to the neanderthal Cardassian. He wanted to storm out of this place. He wanted to go back home. Wanted to have a raktajino, joke with Jadzia, and play darts with Chief. He wanted the safety of his own room, his own bed in the station...

Seeing that Julian was not running into his arms this time, Dukat rose up, then with unexpected intimacy, he kissed Julian's palm. First one, then the other.

"It's late, Doctor," he murmured, his face still in Julian's palms, looking up with pleading eyes. "And I know how much this place is taxing you."

It was. With oxytocin decreasing in his system, Julian started to feel his daily aches and soreness butting their way in. His body craved rest. However hard this bed was —or despicable the company— it had become his refuge in this hellhole.

He sat down and allowed Dukat to pull him into his arms. 

"This place-” Julian started, but couldn't finish, his throat tightening painfully. This place was killing him, maybe slowly but surely.

"We won't be here too long." Dukat placed a chaste kiss under his ear. "That's a promise."

Julian wanted to believe, but…

"Now sleep, Doctor," Dukat ordered, rubbing Julian's shoulders. "I'll protect you."

TBC...

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

"Doctor!"

Julian turned to meet Garak's wide smile, carefree and mysterious. Not unlike the smiles he had given Julian back at Deep Space 9 when he was saying one thing but meaning another altogether. One of those smiles.

"Garak?" He couldn't help the question in his voice. It had been months that they had been here and it was the first time Garak was talking to him.

"How wonderful to come across you here." He grabbed Julian's arm and guided him in a not too slow stroll away from the food distribution tables. "I would love you to see a place I found here recently," he kept talking in a curiously cheerful voice as if he had caught Julian on the promenade and not in the mining tunnels of this prison. "It's right under the ventilation fans and brings such clean air… it's simply marvelous." 

"What?" Julian blurted out, trying to match the Cardassian's speed.

"And the hum from the fan drowns out this awful noise. It's as if you're standing right next to a waterfall. Reminds me-"

"Garak, stop!" Julian pulled his arm out of Garak's hold. "What are you doing?"

"I was just telling you, Doctor, you have to see-"

"No." Julian shook his head. "What I  **have to** do is to get some dinner before it's all gone. You should too."

"Not today." Garak's voice turned serious. "You need to come with me to-"

"Why?" Julian pushed him to a small alcove on the side. He had this instinctual secrecy when it came to matters with Garak even though there wasn't anyone around here to hide from _. Because dinner wouldn't wait for anyone _ , his stomach reminded him. "Why?" He repeated.

"Because it's the only place where orbital scanners can lock onto your DNA for transport." He continued with a slight grimace, "I  _ think, _ the only place."

Julian stepped back, looking at Garak's eyes. Was he telling the truth? The whole truth?

"Now!" Garak pushed him out of the little hole in the wall, "We have to go now. If they don't see a human between all these Cardassians, they might think it was a false signal."

Julian started a rapid pace, his mind trying to absorb the news, hunger forgotten, hope rising...

"How did you send the signal?"

"Wasn't easy," Garak sighed. "And I could only send a generic Federation distress signal, nothing specific."

Julian couldn't believe it, couldn't comprehend it really. It was pointless to try to keep his expectations low. ' _ Hope for the best, prepare for—'  _ Oh! It was no use _. _ He could barely hold onto his wits to stop the urge to hop and skip. He couldn't stop grinning like a maniac. Dukat would make so much fun of him if he saw—

"Wait!" he stopped. "What about Dukat?"

"What about him?" Garak shrugged, but Julian could see through his nonchalant mask. It seemed his hatred for Dukat was stronger than his incredible acting ability. It wasn't actually surprising that Garak wanted to leave the guy behind. And Julian knew nothing he could say would change Garak's mind. With an internal groan, he turned back to the dinner line where he knew Dukat would be, like all the other prisoners.

"Are you really going to risk your freedom... your life for him?" Garak stopped him, eyes searching something in Julian's. "Why?"

"Why?" Julian snickered. How about for all those times that Dukat fought tooth and nail to pull Julian out from under one crazed inmate or another. "You mean other than the reason he saved my life here every day?" Julian wasn't that naive, of course he knew losing Julian would be a big hit to Dukat's status here. How strong could a guy be if he couldn't even manage to keep his  _ property _ ? And yes, Julian knew how everyone saw him as nothing more than a piece of meat here, Dukat included. Still, the guy was the only reason nobody had chewed this piece of meat and spat out the remains. So far. 

"My understanding is that he has been compensated plenty," Garak sneered through clenched teeth.

_ Compensated _ ! Blood rushed into Julian's head, throbbing at his temples. "Fuck you!" He jerked his arm away from Garak's touch.  _ Compensated _ ! The nerve of this bastard. Julian might've been using the only commodity available to him to pay for survival here and he was not proud of it, but he would not accept being shamed for it either.

"I'm sorry, Doctor." Garak lifted up his hands, "It wasn't my intention to—" He sighed, stepped closer, "He doesn't deserve your loyalty." His eyes were soft, pleading. They looked sincere if you could believe such a thing from Garak. 

"He doesn't deserve to be here either," Julian answered, setting out toward the dinner. Nobody deserved to be here. Nobody.

"That's where you're wrong, my dear Doctor." Garak stepped in front of him, with a smile dripping with contempt. "He deserves much worse." One day Julian should learn what the hell had happened between these two; but he wasn't going to hold his breath. "He's the reason we're here."

"You don't know that." Not that Julian hadn't thought of it as one of the million possible scenarios of why they had ended up in a Cardassian prison.

"Why do you think the pirates were paid to bring us directly here," Garak insisted, after catching up with Julian and stopping him. "Gul Dukat must have angered one too many people in the Central Command." 

"Or it could be you." Dukat showed up out of nowhere and wrenched Garak's hand off of Julian's shoulder —twisting it, eliciting a muffled whimper. "You sure left way too many people angry back home." He leaned down, face almost touching Garak. "Remember home, Garak?"

"We don't have time for this." Julian stepped in between the two.

Dukat let go of Garak's hand and held Julian's shoulders, checking him as if Garak would have harmed him. "I suspected someone decided that they wanted you more than dinner." He smirked, "It seems I was right." 

"You know what?" Julian pushed him back, "You can beat each other senseless if you like. Just wait until we're out of here, okay?"

But before he could finish that sentence, he materialized in a transporter room. First, he had to squint his eyes to adjust to the brightness. Then, he found out he was in a starship. There was an ensign manning the transporter, a lieutenant standing next to him and two security officers at the door. All donned in that beautiful, beautiful Starfleet uniform that Julian had been dreaming about for months. 

He was rescued. Finally. Finally saved from that wretched place. He filled his lungs with the clean, recycled air. Freedom smelled so sweet he could cry.

"I'm Lieutenant Krencho," the young lieutenant introduced himself. "Welcome to Starship Diraynec."

"Dr Bashir, from Deep Space 9. Glad to be here." Julian couldn't help grinning like a fool. Then he realized his prison-mates were missing. "Can you find the two Cardassians standing right next to me?"

"Yes. Sir?" The ensign glanced at the lieutenant who was obviously overseeing the operation, then at Julian. 

"Those two were with me in a Starfleet runabout when we were attacked by pirates and sold to the mining outpost." Julian tried his best to summarize the situation. "Please?"

The lieutenant gave a sharp nod and suddenly Garak and Gul Dukat materialized behind Julian. They were at each other's throats; nothing Julian hadn't expected.

"Oh my!" Dukat pulled himself out of Garak's arms. "It seems we're saved by Starfleet." He pulled the bottom of his armor down, straightening his uniform and stood straight. "Gul Dukat, Commander of the Second Order." 

The ensign's face blanched white upon hearing his name, but he didn't say anything. The lieutenant stepped forward and gestured them all to the door, "Welcome to the Diraynec. Please follow me."

  
  
  


Later Julian learned that he was declared missing in action, assumed dead, when they had found the remains of their runabout. Pirates, flourishing in the power vacuum, were attacking everyone viciously, Cardassian, Federation or Maquis and never left any survivors. Not until now, it seemed. The captain of the Diraynec explained in detail what had been done to flush out the pirate ships, how the Federation would obviously be successful, how their efforts would stabilize the war beaten system...all the politically correct propaganda Julian had been hearing his whole life. In the honesty of his own mind, he couldn't care any less. 

The Diraynec had been two light-years away when they had received the distress signal, the Captain said. They weren't sure if it was genuine but they decided to give it a chance anyway. That's how Julian was saved. A chance. The good Captain looked at their busy schedule and decided  _ why not. _

The fates of Doctor Wang and Nurse Mendel weren't looking too bright either, Julian understood. They were either dead like suspected or sold to an organization that would welcome female slaves and kept far away from the Federation's radar. The captain assured him that now that Starfleet knew that there might be survivors, they  _ of course _ would find them. Of course! 

Julian shouldn't be so bitter. He surely wasn't the first MIA that hadn't been found right away. He knew the risks going into that mission. He volunteered for it regardless. They all did. A colony built by former Cardassian  **and** Federation citizens together asking for humanitarian help... To help a colony that succeeded at such monumental peace, a peace that the rest of the quadrant failed miserably... How could he have refused? Julian wasn't sure what Garak's  _ real _ reason was or Dukat's for that matter. He hadn't cared, still didn't. He and his fellow officers had volunteered because it had been the right thing to do. Because that's what Starfleet was supposed to stand for. 

Starfleet hadn't helped however. They, of course, had their reasons. Starfleet was never known to suffer from lack of excuses: The agreement with Cardassia was too important to jeopardize. With the Maquis muddying the waters and sending everyone to the edge, Starfleet couldn't risk angering Cardassia even further. Not when there was this potential danger rising from the Gamma Quadrant.

So Julian couldn't help thinking if they had been on official business in a starship that was armed to the teeth instead of that small runabout, how different everything would be. How different indeed.

His briefing wasn't too long even with all the assurances and excuses. He assumed his Cardassian fellows had longer time under questioning. Not that those two would reveal anything that had any value. Per doctor's orders, he spent much longer time in the infirmary then the briefing. Then, they sent him to the mess for some conventional nourishment.

It was the middle of the night for the ship's standard, so there weren't many people in the mess. He asked for Tarkalian tea and buttered scones from the replicator; not because he wanted them, but because he felt like he should. 

Just the hot, melted butter smell was enough to bring tears to his eyes, flooding him with the memories from long, long ago: the early mornings, mom's kisses, after school games... Crisp crust crumbled under his touch, still warm. He felt giddy, like the kid in those old memories. The scone tasted… Awful. Awful! Too sweet, as if filled with Cirkallian honey. Living only on tasteless, shapeless food substitutes for so long, he should have started with more bland food. He knew better.

At least he had ordered the tea with no sugar. The caffeine hit him hard, almost intoxicating in its strong flavor. He savored the sip; his mind taking him to his daily tea time with the other senior staff in the station. Their talks, jokes, giggles... The taste turned sour in his mouth. They hadn't been looking for him. Not Sisko, not Chief, not Jadzia. Nobody had been looking for him. There must be someone already appointed to his old post; he hadn't thought to ask about that.

A blue cup of raktajino floated into his view. It was Garak. 

"I wanted to say, thank you, Doctor," He started with a smile that slowly degraded when Julian didn't respond in kind. 

"You left me all alone there, Garak." Julian decided to be honest, and forward. One of them should.

Garak didn't respond at first. Obviously he had not been expecting a confrontation so soon after their escape; probably never. An escape that Garak had made it possible. Maybe Julian shouldn't—

"It was for your sake, my dear Doctor," he started after a sip of his coffee. Julian stopped him.

"Spare me the mendacity, will you?" He sighed then. He wasn't angry at Garak. Not really. He was just...disappointed. In everyone. "You could've told me that."

"Yes." His brow-ridges lifted; leaning closer, he continued, "But..would you have believed me?" Garak held Julian's hand, squeezing it to convey a message Julian couldn't decipher. "Do you think it wasn't one of the hardest things I've ever done, to leave you at the hands of that narcissistic monster, to watch him touch—" He sighed with a shudder, then continued with a bitter smile, "It was just...necessary, Doctor."

Julian pulled his hand back. He took a sip from his tea, strong and refreshing, unlike anything he had tasted for months. He looked at Garak who was waiting. Waiting for what? 

_ 'Then why did you leave, Garak? For once, tell me the truth. Why?'  _ Would it matter if Julian had asked the question aloud? No, of course not. But what could Julian tell him, then? What could one say to explain that friends should be equal in a relationship. That being there for someone included more than protecting him or fighting for him. That sometimes all you needed was a smile to give you hope in such a bleak existence.

Julian just couldn't figure out why Garak had chosen to stay away. If Dukat was to be believed, Garak had been trying to keep Julian alive. Julian was willing to believe that, but by itself it wasn't a reason not to talk to him for months. For months! Could it be because Garak thought his presence would push Dukat away? Julian couldn't see how. If anything, he was sure Dukat would have loved to flaunt his latest catch in Garak's face. Maybe it was the homosexuality aspect. Dukat insisted that it wasn't anything that was looked down upon in Cardassia, but there was a chance he meant some platonic, brotherly love because of the obvious physiological hindrance. Or it could be that being penetrated was akin to emasculation for Cardassians which Julian assumed was a pretty big deal for such a testosterone driven society. Only one thing Julian was sure of; he was never going to get a real answer from Garak.

"I'm tired Garak," he said instead. He really was; he had been diagnosed with prolonged fatigue only a few hours ago. And talking to Garak was no easy task.

"Of course." Garak stood up, "I just hope I wouldn't lose...your friendship, Doctor," he said, clipped and soft. "It means a  **_great_ ** deal to me." He, then, hurried away.

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know nothing Julian Bashir.


	4. Chapter 4

His assigned guest room was almost as big as his quarters back on the station. They had so much space in these Galaxy class ships that it was ridiculous. A large bed stood under the star filled window, soft and welcoming. There was a little desk on the side, a loveseat and a coffee table. He could see the sonic shower through the opening in the back. A luxury he missed more than the bed. 

Sonic showers were known for their effectiveness: thorough cleaning in minimal time with minimal waste. Today, though, Julian stood in his for half an hour, dropping the pitch to a comfortable, warm buzz, letting it caress his skin, find and dispose of all the microscopic dirt that had built up in the smallest of creases and wrinkles during his incarceration. He rested his head on the shower wall and let the vibrations tickle him...until he heard the door chime.

He considered not answering. He could pretend to be asleep. The few hours' nap he had taken in the infirmary was surely not enough. However, the second and third chimes told him that his visitor was not going to leave anytime soon.

"Come in," he let the door unlocked while wrapping a large towel around his hips, then stepped out of the bathroom.

"Doctor!" Dukat gave a sleazy smile, his eyes leering over Julian's half naked body. "I absolutely love this welcome."

"What do you want?" Julian couldn't help rolling his eyes. 

"Oh, a mini celebration," he grinned, showing the bottle of Andorian Ale in his hand. "A toast to freedom." He shook the bottle, the pale blue liquid swirled and rippled, catching the light and refracting it into a kaleidoscope of colors on the wall.

Dukat looked so much better than how Julian felt, that its unfairness hurt. They both were in the same place. They went through the same gruesome torture called work. They slept in the same fucking bed. But Dukat looked no different than when Julian had seen him during the mission briefing on DS9. One shower and change of clothes; voila! He was back to his old pompous self. 

"You look good," Dukat stepped forward, "Full belly and clean shower can really do miracles."

The sad part was that however bad Julian felt or looked at the moment, he had been much worse when he first stepped into this ship. He could recognize the panic in the infirmary staffs' eyes. He was emaciated; his physiology hadn't been able to absorb the nutrients tailor made specifically for Cardassians, missing a few essential amino acids and vitamins during his _visit_. Overexhaustion had eaten away his muscles. And the constant dirt hanging in the air left his thin skin grimy. The CMO pumped him full of analeptic compounds and shot him with bone and tissue regenerators for hours. The rest, she had said, was to be left to the healing hand of time. Still, he looked better even with the pale face and sunken eyes. He guessed he could toast to that.

He gestured to the loveseat for Dukat then went into the bathroom to put on some clothes.

"You don't have to get dressed on my account." He heard Dukat saying while filling the shot glasses.

"Our deal is over, Dukat," Julian answered, "Don't get any crazy ideas."

  
  


In hindsight, Julian should've known that Dukat already had crazy ideas; he knew what a hedonist the guy was. Whatever Dukat wanted, he got it. And now, he got Julian on the loveseat, slightly tipsy.

"It was only a matter of time, Doctor," Dukat dismissed Julian's but-for-the-grace-of-God explanation for their escape. He insisted his efforts to reach his buddies would be successful. 

Julian was skeptical though. "Even if we assume that the guard actually sent your message, how did you know Dumar would come," Julian drawled to avoid slurring his words. That single shot had hit him hard.

"Because that's what I'd do," Dukat answered, certain, no doubt. 

"What I know from Cardassian politics—" 

"Garak isn't a soldier, Doctor," Dukat stopped him, correctly guessing the source of Julian's knowledge. "He'd never know or understand the bond between brothers in arms," he explained, filling the glasses. "You trust your comrade with your life, and more importantly, they put their lives in your hands." 

The terrifying experience from the previous year when the Chief was almost killed by the genetic harvesters came to Julian's mind. How they were desperately trying to send a signal to Starfleet while Julian was battling against time to keep O'Brian alive. How they stood side by side against both T'Lani and Kellerun at the end… "I know," he murmured, "You should be able to say 'it's been an honor to serve with you' when you face death."

Dukat's glass stopped just shy of his lips. "Exactly," he said, looking at him with a soft smile. "So, you know how it is." He raised his glass to salute and then drank. 

"I'm not gonna drink any more," Julian said, when Dukat refilled the glasses again. He had to repeat his protest, louder. "Dukat! That's enough for me."

"I'm sorry Doctor, didn't hear you." Dukat drained his third shot, licking his lips to get the single droplet that was rolling down the corner of his mouth. 

Julian averted his eyes when Dukat caught him staring. Dukat's smile turned predatory. Bending his leg, he pulled one foot onto the couch, then turned his whole body to face Julian. "We Cardassians can't hear that well maybe," he scooted even closer, after leaving the empty glass on the coffee table "but our olfactory senses are quite keen."

He was scenting Julian. Julian should push him away, put a stop to this nonsense, but after spending so many nights just like this, it felt normal. Comfortable.

"So?"

"So…" Dukat whispered, his nose almost touching Julian's ear. "I know you want me to kiss you now." He inhaled deeply, right under Julian's ear. "Your lust smells delicious."

Did he? Did he really want Dukat? He watched that smug smile that always grated on his nerves. All-knowing, condescending, wicked smile. He raised his fingers and traced the contours of the gray, softly scaled skin of Dukat's face that had become the beacon of safety and protection for the past few months. Dukat closed his eyes; allowed Julian to feel him for a while. Then caught Julian's finger in his mouth. He sucked the tip in, twirling his tongue around, nibbling at the fingertips.

Julian felt himself growing inside his pants, his body responding to the stimuli. He tried to find some righteous anger to stop himself. This guy had used him, exploited his weakness. This guy was a horrible human being, responsible for so much death and misery. He tried to channel Kira, her burning hatred… Kira who had probably forgotten all about Julian.

"You smell intoxicating," Dukat growled, "I can almost taste your slick wetting up that cute _t'ghra_." He brought his finger over Julian's pants, trailing the tip of his dick, smudging the precome that had started leaking. 

"Fuck!" Julian groaned, his hips pushing up, seeking more contact. Who was he trying to kid? He wanted it. And what was wrong with wanting one last hurrah? He wanted to see how it would be different when there wasn't mortal danger dangling above their heads. He wanted to see if he could make Dukat lose himself. He wanted to see how Dukat would look like when he did.

"Take your clothes off," Julian ordered, pushing Dukat off the loveseat. He hadn't seen Dukat out of his armor other than very quick showers. He wanted to see him, now. He sat back. Arms wide open at the back of the loveseat, he raised his eyebrows, waiting.

If he didn't like Julian's tone or order, Dukat didn't show it. 

"As you wish," he stood up and divested himself of his layers. 

He stood tall, hands opened on the sides, inviting Julian's gaze with a playful smile. He didn't have the strong guy look in human standards. No puffy muscles were adorning his arms or shoulders. Instead he was blessed with long, taut lines of power, and Julian knew the dangerous strength in them, intimately. His scales looked finer around his abdomen, almost like light gray fur. Julian brought his hands over and explored. 

Dukat shivered, visibly. 

"You're sensitive here," Julian observed, moving his hands toward Dukat's back, fingers pushing the soft scales, lifting them up. His skin was much thicker with much harder scales on the back. Two ridges coming down from his neck were raised like small hills on his back, separating the dorsal body from the ventral and framing his buttocks like the artwork they were. Julian opened up his hands and grabbed Dukat's butt. Hard ridges were the perfect contrast to the plumpness of that rump. 

The position brought Dukat's dick right in Julian's face. He watched, mesmerized, the _skhot_ emerging from its sheath. Already slick, it was gleaming under the soft lights. The ridges that once had looked scary, now were enticing, like colorful gemstones promising a delightful experience. It grew longer and wider, until it stood proudly on its scaled sheath like a jeweled dagger, dangerous but beautiful.

Julian scooted forward on the loveseat and pressed his lips to the tip. Dukat hissed, his hands flying at Julian's head. He didn't press or grab but held his hands right above Julian's head, barely touching his hair. His _skhot_ smelled clean, maybe a bit earthy but totally different than a human, male or female. Julian gave a small lick, testing its alien taste. Dukat's hands tensed but he didn't make any sound. The taste reminded Julian of kanar, which probably was a ridiculous notion for a Cardassian, so he kept it to himself. He gave open mouthed kisses, gripping the smooth tip between his lips, adding his saliva to the slickness.

"Julian!" Dukat's voice was clipped, breathing hard and fast.

"Is this okay?" Julian asked, not lifting his lips from the soft skin, knowing how the vibrations would travel maddeningly from his mouth to Dukat's dick.

"Are you sure?" Dukat tilted Julian's head and looked at his eyes. "Do you really want to do **that**?"

"If that's okay."

Dukat looked bewildered, he gave a nod. Maybe oral sex wasn't common in Cardassia either. 

Julian, without taking his eyes away from Dukat's, licked the head. Then again, then again. He opened up his mouth and under Dukat's wide open eyes he sucked the tip in.

Dukat groaned, more like howled, before biting his lips to shut himself up. His whole body turned into one long, tense line. Julian sucked a little bit more of him in, reveling in the power he held at that moment.

"Grab my hair," he ordered and Dukat obeyed immediately. He didn't pull, but his hands' weight and the sharpness of his nails were complementing perfectly to the delicious dick in his mouth.

Julian held the root, right above the scaled, rough sheath and massaged it while sucking and licking the rest as much as he could fit in his mouth. Listening to Dukat's muffled gasps, he played with it to his heart's content. 

"You wanna fuck my mouth?" Julian asked after Dukat let go yet another strangled groan.

"I don't think there's anything I want more right now." He positioned Julian's head, then pushed in. Julian closed his eyes and concentrated on the fullness in his mouth. He relaxed his jaw, and throat, accepting the delicious intrusion that moved beyond anything that he had experienced before.

Dukat swore, " _Nh'rasm_ !" He cussed _,_ "Your _skothe_ mouth." And he cursed _"Leskhotte_!" in between groans and hisses. His hands tightened, pulling Julian's hair, scratching his scalp. Julian couldn't apply any suction the way Dukat was going and the way that monster dick was knocking on the back of his gullet, he kept gagging constantly. Still, he was getting impossibly harder. And if he didn't have to keep both his hands on the thick sheath as a stopper —in case Dukat got too crazy to forget the size of the hole he was fucking— he would've long rubbed to the finish line.

Dukat apparently had other ideas. He suddenly pulled out, bent over and kissed Julian. The kiss was almost as invasive as his skull fuck; he went from sucking Julian's tongue to nibbling his lips to licking his mouth. His hands slithered down, grabbing under Julian's arms. Then, with an impressive show of strength, he pulled him up to his arms. For a second, Julian didn't know how to hold himself, never been in this side of the situation. Then, he figured out to wrap his legs around Dukat's torso, balancing his weight on the guy's hips. Dukat's dick was resting right under his butt, sliding in between his ass cheeks, lubricating and tickling him at the same time. Moving a few feet, Dukat squeezed him between his body and the wall, right next to the window. He then moved the onslaught from Julian's mouth to his neck.

"I've been with Humans before," he grunted, "but no one like you, Julian." He bit Julian's ear, the point that always took Julian's breath away, that turned his whole body to an enormous erogenous zone. "How deliciously unique, you are." He licked the point he had just bit, gently sucking the earlobe into his mouth. His fingers entered in Julian, pressing and pushing and prodding…

Julian humped Dukat's lower abdomen, fucking himself down on those talented fingers. The soft scales provided just enough friction to be on the right side of painful, on both his dick and ass. 

"Can I enter you like this?"

"Hell no!" Julian drew his head back and rested it on the wall, sucking up lungfuls of air and opening up his neck for further assault. "No fucking way unless you want to split me in two."

"Such a tempting offer," grinned Dukat, but took Julian to the bed instead. He laid Julian on the bed, then stepped back, watching him. His hands crept down Julian's neck, running over where he had left burning kisses not so long ago. "Your skin is so easy to mar, to mark…" his fingers trailed down over his shoulders, "same with other Terrans." He, then, grabbed Julian at his nape, nails pressing into the nerve that drove Julian crazy every single time. "Yet I can sense where to touch you," his voice awestruck, eyes giddy, "as if you're Cardassian."

"What do you mean?" Julian managed to ask in between undignified gasps.

"That I've never been with anyone like you, Julian." He smiled and for the first time it seemed sincere. "That it's such a wondrous experience to have you."

Julian knew that he should question more, but he was swimming in such a delightful haze of pleasure that he couldn't. He turned his head to the side and licked Dukat's hand, guiding it into his mouth. He nipped at his wrist, tongue playing with the scales on it. Then, he walked his teeth over the scales toward the thumb and he sucked it in.

" _Skhotte!"_ Dukat snarled, his hands holding Julian's head tight, he kissed him again. Punishing, controlling, owning kisses… Kisses that left Julian breathless, that sent waves of desire thorough his whole body.

"Lie down!" Julian ordered when Dukat let him free, then got up to lead him to the bed.

Dukat lifted a brow-ridge, but didn't verbally question the order. He lay back, slowly, watching Julian's every move. Julian couldn't concentrate on Dukat's face though, not when his cock stood up like a shimmering tower, tall and proud. It looked inviting and intimidating, mouth-watering and menacing at the same time. Julian slid his left leg over Dukat's body and straddled him right on top of that big, alien dick.

"Oohhh," moaned Dukat. Hands stroking Julian's butt and legs, he watched his cock creeping in. "This view is spectacular."

Julian didn't care about the view. He balanced himself on Dukat's chest with his hands, and relished the slow sink. He let himself descend one ridge at a time, savoring each and every one passing through his entrance. His legs trembled with the effort of holding his position; there were a lot of ridges to be savored.

Dukat's hands moved up on his skin, over his pectorals, targeting his nipples.

"Such soft, delicate things, begging to be loved." Dukat pinched him, squeezing the already pebbled nipples in between his fingers and thumbs, his nails making their presence known. Julian's descent faltered with a whimper. "So responsive." Another pinch, palms massaging the muscles around them. He, then, pulled the squeezed flesh away from his chest, nails digging in a little more. Julian's whimpers turned into wailing. "So sensitive." He let go, finger pads now rubbing the pain away. "So defenseless." He flicked them with the hard nails, drawing another high-pitched wail. "So wanton."

Julian couldn't hold himself any longer. He slid down on Dukat's cock, hungrily swallowing it, its girth the only thing slowing him down. 

"Yes," hissed Dukat, when Julian sat down on the thick sheath. "Exactly like this."

His hands moved down on Julian's abdomen, tracing the bulge his cock created there. Julian leaned back, slowly, letting the bulge get more prominent. Dukat's cock pushed his skin taut as if trying to find a way to escape from its confinement. Dukat watched in fascination, rubbing his dick, over Julian's belly.

"I can't control myself any longer," he growled. "You're gonna make me lose it."

"Good." Julian smiled, feeling victorious. He grabbed Dukat's hands and positioned them under his butt. "Now, fuck me. Like this." He rose up, then down, letting half his weight be carried by Dukat's hands. Dukat pushed up to meet him halfway. 

It was different, being on top. He was getting fucked, not that part obviously, but holding onto Dukat's chest as if he was reining in the beast, controlling him. It was heady stuff, watching him trying to hold on to his control. Watching his biceps ripple under Julian's weight. Watching him bite his lips to swallow his groans. Watching his neck stretch, ridges stand erect...

He rested more of his weight on his legs and Dukat's capable hands, and trailed his fingers up, to Dukat's neck, to the hard ridges adorning it there. A mere contact and Dukat jerked as if touching a live wire.

"Do you want me to be gentle or…" Julian asked, hands exploring the scales behind those ridges.

"No," he uttered with a hiss.

"Good." Julian gyrated his hips, holding on to Dukat's neck ridges. He was hard there, almost rigid, but Julian found a way to bury his fingertips under the scales resting on the ridges. He moved his fingers, pushing the scales back, right over the line that corresponded to the nerve on Julian that Dukat was so fond of. He pressed his nails into the thick skin underneath, into the point that he hoped would cause the same effect as it did on him.

Dukat gurgled, his fingers clutching Julian's butt so tight that Julian was sure he would be able to count them on his skin come morning. Still he wasn't as gone as Julian had been.

"Not the right point?" he asked, disappointed.

"Oh it is, my dear." The end of 'dear' stretched into a whimper when Julian wiggled his fingers. "But my skin isn't as thin as yours." 

Oh well! He had tried.

"I'm gonna turn you over now, Julian," Dukat said, then pulled him down on top of himself. "Then, I'm gonna _skhote_ you." He hugged Julian, squeezing the breath out of him. "While watching your face."

Julian was tired of these assisted squats anyway. He nodded and by the next breath he was under Dukat. Dukat's face was so close that they were breathing each other's exhales. His hands holding Julian's face stable on the pillow, Dukat looked into his eyes and long-dicked him just like that. Pulling all of it out, then pushing it in slowly. Very slowly. Pushing it all the way in. To the sheath. And then some.

"Don't worry," Dukat tried to pacify him when Julian first felt that thick, scaled, rugged monster knocking at his back door. "I'm not gonna hurt you." Julian wanted to believe that. Dukat hadn't hurt him. So far. But the scales on that sheath were scary. They stood out like barbs at the bottom of that delicious cock and Julian had no intention of being shredded down there. "Shhhhh…" he placated Julian, stealing little, almost innocent kisses. "You're gonna love it."

That, Julian did.

The scales weren't sharp, apparently. They felt more like thick bristles bending with a little pressure; as if he was being entered by a giant hair brush that swept awake every nerve ending he had down there. All 8000 of them. Then came the soothing smooth surface of ridges. Then the scales again…

When Dukat was all the way in, Julian was trembling with small, halfway gasps that could barely carry enough oxygen to his brain. He opened his eyes. Dukat was grinning, amused and cocky. 

"See, I told you you'd love it."

In response, Julian pulled him down and drank his kisses. He was a bastard, yes, but God, the guy could fuck. 

With a few sway of Dukat's hips that managed to squeeze Julian's dick just right between their bodies, Julian came. Sucking air from Dukat's mouth, he rode the pleasure that rendered him void of speech or thought.

He could sense but couldn't really comprehend it when Dukat growled and fucked him like a wild animal... when he bit Julian's neck and left his seed deep down inside him… when he rolled to the side, breathing like a racehorse…

  
  
  


"Julian!" 

Julian opened his eyes, he was under the covers. Dukat stood tall next to the bed, already clothed. He looked no different than a few hours ago when he entered this room.

"Wha'?" Julian tried to get his bearings. He was sore. Nothing like the gruesome work soreness kind that he had suffered without a break the last few months, but that sweet reminder of the pleasure kind.

"I didn't want to leave without a goodbye," Dukat sat down on the bed. He brought his hand up toward Julian's face, but pulled it back to his lap before actually touching. "I know you'll want discretion, so-"

Julian chuckled. Discretion, right. "Oh? So it's not because you don't want to advertise how you shamelessly exploited the Human doctor."

"Believe me, Doctor. What you call exploitation would be considered a victory in my world." This time his hand reached Julian, fingers running through his hair.

"Aren't you married, Dukat?"

"What's a man's wife got to do with this?" He looked perplexed.

"Never mind." Julian didn't have it in him to discuss Cardassian family values and sex with Gul Dukat. Not now. Probably not ever.

"I was saying," Dukat continued, "My path will pass your station and I can be discreet."

Julian laughed. He didn't know what was so funny. That Gul Dukat had offered him being fuck buddies or that Julian didn't even know if he would still be stationed at Deep Space 9.

"It's a pleasure leaving a companion so happy," Dukat smiled. Nothing would deter this guy, Julian knew that much.

"I'll call you, Dukat" Julian said, "If I ever desire your companionship."

"I know you will." His smile widened, predatory again. "It's a when, my dear Doctor. Not an if." He then left the room.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intention was to tie some of the unique experiences up to Julian's genetic enhancements. (A little Cardassian genome to ensure eidetic memory maybe, with slight side effects.) Unfortunately, Julian vehemently refused to question the issue, let alone confirm it.


	5. Epilogue

Julian was woken up rather rudely by the com. It was the next day. Afternoon.

"Bashir here," he answered, feeling rested for the first time since he had left for the Tarheel system. He turned on his back and his ass reminded him of the previous night's recreational activities. He felt empty, a nonpresence of a phantom dick…

"Doctor, we have visitors in the mess hall waiting for you," someone, who hadn't left the academy more than a year ago, muttered nervously.

"Visitors?" Julian rose up, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. 

"Get your ass to the mess hall, Julian or God help me-"

"Chief?!"

"We've been searching the entire sector one asteroid field at a time and he's here, wasting the whole day in bed." 

Yeah, that was O'Brian booming from his com.

"I'll be there on the double."

It was a good thing that his uniform covered every single mark left by Dukat because Julian didn't have the time or the will to conceal them right now. He entered the mess, less than ten minutes after the wake up call; showered, brushed and crawling out of his skin.

"Julian!" Jadzia hugged him, jumping out of nowhere. Julian froze for a moment; his hand instinctually went for the —thankfully missing— shiv. After the initial panic, he melted into the hug though, into the warmness and essence of Jadzia. "Finally," she whimpered. Julian leaned back to check; yes, she was crying. "I knew you were out there." She dried her eyes with the back of her hands. "Oh, Julian!" She smiled, still crying. "We've been looking for you for so long."

They have?

"I thought… Pirates… Declared dead…" Julian stammered. 

Have they? 

Really?

"Officially, you were declared MIA," answered Chief. His tone was bright but looking at him Julian could see evidence of the contrary. There were dark bags hanging under his eyes, giving him a haunted look. Even more noticeably, his golden curls sagged, missing that playful bounciness that gave him his... _ Chief _ ness. "That doesn't mean we stopped searching for you, you idiot." He stood awkwardly, arms undecided to be up or down, shuffling a little on his spot. Then, he pulled Julian into a manly hug, patting him on the back. "Jesus! You're even bonier than before."

Julian hugged him back. The warm  _ saved  _ feeling burst inside him. 

"We were searching Heiloh Asteroid Field when we got the news," Jadzia said, with a grimace. "We never thought to look so far away from the wreckage."

"Damned Cardassians!" Chief let him go, stepping back. "I can't believe they dared to send a Starfleet officer into prison. Without even informing us."

Jadzia pulled him, then, to a table. Chief kept talking about how the Cardassian government insisted that it wasn't an official act, that they'd already found and punished the traitors involved in such a despicable atrocity, that they very much valued their agreement with the Federation... 

Jadzia talked about life on the station. Little anecdotes from Ops, a plasma storm that threatened the structural integrity of the place, what Jake and Nog were up to these days, Quark's shenanigans with Odo, new holosuite updates…

Julian let the conversation wash over him, smiling when appropriate, grunting when necessary. He savored their laughs, their voices. It wasn't like what he had imagined back in the prison every night. It was better. 

"Gul Dukat?" humphed Chief, out of nowhere. Julian turned back to trace his gaze. Yes, there was Dukat at the door. "I was hoping  **he** would be dead."

_ 'Then I would definitely be too _ ,' Julian didn't say.

"Oh, the lovely Jadzia Dax." Dukat strode over, "It is such a delightful surprise to see you here." 

"Dukat," Jadzia nodded with a smile; that mischievous, confident, daring smile that had given Julian butterflies once upon a time.

"Keep your paws off, Dukat!" Chief snapped, then he mock-whispered toward the table, "Cardassians are known to get  _ dangerous _ after imprisonment."

"Isn't it against some Federation rule to blame the whole species for some individuals' sins?" Dukat asked, then added without waiting for an answer, "Aren't I a complete gentleman..." He paused, Julian froze. No. Fuck, no! "Lieutenant Dax?"

Dax _?  _

_ Dax _ ? No. 

Julian's eyes jumped to Dax's face. Did that mean what he thought it did?

"Aren't you supposed to leave for your ship now, Gul Dukat?" she asked with a huff, like it was nothing. Maybe it was.

"I came to say goodbye to Doctor Bashir." He turned to Julian, bowed his head. "It was an honor, Doctor." 

Julian couldn't speak. He responded with a bow as well. 

_ What had happened? _

"What an annoying bastard!" Chief hissed after Dukat left. 

Julian couldn't take his eyes off of Jadzia's. Was that shame he saw there? Guilt? Could she see it mirrored in his eyes? Or was he just projecting those feelings on her. 

"Are you okay, Julian?" Chief asked, worrying. "It must be uncomfortable being around him, reminding you of that place."

"No," Julian shook his head, finally turning away from Jadzia. "Actually we had to depend on each other in prison. Saved each other's life a few times even."

"Huh!" Chief shrugged, "I guess that's inevitable."

It was inevitable. Or at least that was what Julian kept telling himself.

"So," Jadzia spoke after clearing her throat, "have you prepared your mission report yet?"

She was joking of course, diffusing the heavy atmosphere, changing the subject... Julian welcomed it with a laugh that spilled out of him.

"It's good to hear you laugh," said Jadzia, taking his hands in between hers.

"Yeah," added Chief.

"It's good to be back."

It was.

  
  


The End

  
  
  



End file.
